Seeing Eye to Eye
by SupernaturallyObsessedWSciFi
Summary: Eleanor was rescued ten years ago by the Winchesters, and adopted by them, seeing she had no place to go. Now, ten years later, and they're adults (no kidding!), and stuck in the middle of something BIG. With three witty, immature hunters and one blunt 'angel," what could possibly go wrong? Castiel x OC Dean x OC
1. The Change

**R&R greatly appreciated! Please and thank you! And thank you, Pixiewolf101 for your help with creating Phaedra!**

**PLEASE NOTE: I do not own any of these characters, with the exclusion of Eleanor. **

* * *

_**Eleanor's POV**_

I woke up to the sound of Def Leppard being blared from the radio.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Dean called, shaking my shoulder not-so-gently. I moaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over my head. It didn't do anything to block out my best friend's singing, but it blocked the sunlight out just fine.

"Pour some sugar on me! Oh, in the name of love!" Dean kept singing, his voice rising with each letter. He grabbed me by my ankle and pulled. I screamed before I fell out of the bed and on my butt.

"I'm gonna get you for that!" I responded angrily and jumped up, chasing after him. I just got the tip of his jacket sleeve, pulling. Or more like he was pulling me. I wasn't strong enough to hold him down, but I did climb onto his back so I could kick him behind the knee, causing him to loose balance.

"Not-" Dean started, then toppled to the ground. "-fair."

I snickered. "I thought it was."

He glared at me in response. I shrugged, sitting on my bed.

"A girl likes her sleep," I said, stifling a yawn. "What time is it, anyway?" I asked, looking for a clock.

Dean looked down at his watch. "Just passed nine," he answered. I looked around, making my way toward my duffel for fresh clothes.

"Where's Sam?"

"Out getting us some breakfast before we hit the road." He sounded distracted. I turned around to find him lounging on the bed, laying back with his feet crossed. Just looking at me.

"What?" I felt self -conscious under his gaze. He shook his head, still distracted.

"Nothing..." I frowned but went back to my business of finding fresh clothes. I started heading for the bathroom.

"I'm gonna go change," I announced, feeling kind of awkward. Which is weird. I've lived with the guy for ten freaking years, now.

Dean smiled mischeviously, raising an eyebrow. "Mind if I join?"

"No!" I responded immediately. "I mean yes-I mean, uh-"

He held his hands out defensively, laughing. "I was just joking," he said, then broke out into hysteria. "You shou- You should have-"

"Ha-ha," I said dryly. "_Very _funny."

I rolled my eyes as I walked away. But I couldn't help but wonder if there was more to his words than he was letting on.

* * *

I opened the bathroom door, letting the steam waft out. I was clean, and ready for some breakfast. I was just in time, too, because the door of the crap motel we were in opened and Sam walked in.

"Sammy!" Dean greeted. "What'd ya get?" He asked, rubbing his hands together. Sam put down the large brown paper bag, and Dean greedily dug through it. Sam and I both looked at each other and rolled our eyes, then smiled. We were both glad to have him back. Dean had literally just been in Hell, and yet he still had the same habits. I sat down at the table, eagerly awaiting my turn to dig through the bag. I was _starving_.

We ate mostly in silence, and my thoughts had time to ponder, just like they usually do. I wondered how he did it- how Dean could just keep in so much without breaking. I knew he was hiding his experiences of Hell from us. Sam knew it, too. But we didn't push though, because, after all, Hell _is_ Hell. Or so I'm told. I wondered about this "angel" that had raised Dean from the dead. What was his name? Charlie? Camryn? _Castiel_, said a little voice in the back of my head. Hum. My subconscious remembers more than me.

"Ellie...?" Sam said, snapping his fingers in front of my face, trying to get my attention. I blinked, trying to get my pupils to contract to their proper size.

"Huh?" I asked, making it painfully obvious that I had been in the Land of La La. Dean rolled his eyes at me, smiling a little. Sam looked impatient with me.

"I said, 'what do you think about this whole angel deal?'"

I frowned, setting down my plastic fork. "I honestly don't know. I have no idea," I said, then thought a little more. "Although..."

"Although what?" The brothers asked me in unison, cutting me off.

"Although-" I restarted annoyed. "-I do believe there has to be some sort of balance in the world. Angels to balance out demons. It just makes sense. Now, on the topic of _God_..." I let that sentence hang in the air. Sam looked tired, and Dean looked somewhat amused.

"Ya see, Sammy?" He said. "Even Elle doesn't believe in God-"

"But she _does_ believe in angels-"

"I didn't say _either_ of those things-"

The two of them started arguing so fast my head started spinning. I rubbed my temples. Why couldn't we be sane and at peace together for _five. Freaking. Minutes!_?

"Sammy, if there were such a thing, then why haven't we hear-"

"Dean, why can't you just accept that something _good_ is out-"

Dean slammed his fist down. "Because we weren't raised to believe in fairy tales, Sa-"

"SHUDDAP!" I screamed. Their mouths snapped shut, shocked. I looked at Sam first. "I didn't say angels were real-" Then I switched my gaze over to Dean. "-nor did I say they weren't," I said calmly, and slowly.

"And ditto with God," I added, looking down at my eggs, no longer hungry. I pushed back from the table, and threw my leftovers in the trash. Silence filled the atmosphere uncomfortably as I walked out the door for some fresh air.

The cool breeze hit my face and I immediately felt better. Autumn in Wisconsin nipped at my nose, and I was reminded of home, back in Montana. I closed my eyes, and imagined myself back on the ranch, with my siblings and parents. It was a good feeling-comforting. I only wished it would last a little longer.

But when I opened my eyes I knew nothing had changed. They were still dead. I should be, too. Except John Winchester got there just in the nick of time to save _me_. And only _me_. Dean convinced John that if they left me, it'd be like they hadn't saved me at all. That the demons would come back for me. For so, _so_ long, I wished they had left me. I wished the demons _had_ killed me.

I shook the thoughts away. I didn't like thinking about my past. If I didn't think about it, it wouldn't upset me. It's as simple as that. No use pouring more salt in the wound-it's already been cleaned more than it needed to be.

Under very little thought, I decided to go for a walk. The chill of the wind burned a bit, but it didn't really brother me. I walked a couple blocks, feeling guilty for leaving the brothers to wonder about where I went. I started to turn around and head back-

-When I suddenly found myself in an old abandoned warehouse, with no recollection of how I got there. This had trouble spelled all over it. But I wasn't bound, and there wasn't anyone-

I stand corrected. There was a man about Dean's height in a suit, a loose tie, and a trench coat. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bluer than beyond belief. His head was tilted, as if trying to understand something. He didn't look like much of an angel to me.

But of course, I knew who he was. _Castiel_. I knew immediately who he was. He had brought me here. And that scared me, because I have _no idea _how. So I did what I usually did. I used false bravado and placed my hands on my hips in a bitch stance.

"Okay, spill it," I said. This seemed to only confuse him more.

"Why did you bring me here?" I ellaborated, using my 'Duh Dipshit' voice. He nodded, understanding this time.

He walked over to a dusty table, his attention captured by something over there. "I needed to speak with you alone. Without being overheard." He looked at me as if that were obvious.

I released my bitch stance and walked over to him and the table, my curiosity getting the best of me. I wanted to know what he was looking at.

It was a sketch of a familiar symbol or marking. He pointed to it. "Do you recognise this at all?" He asked.

"Yeah..." I said. "It looks somewhat familiar." I frowned, then looked at him, realising he had moved closer. I took a step back. "Whoa, buddy. Personal space."

He seemed to ponder what that meant for a moment before nodding and moving back a step. I looked back at the symbol, trying to place where I've seen it before.

"On your mother's pendant," Castiel supplied. I looked up at him. He didn't ask it as a question. More like a statement of fact.

"How did you know...?" I asked him.

"Your mother was special. She could... speak with angels, hearing their true voice."

Something he said made me think of Pamela, and I remembered. I hate myself for even POSSIBLY forgetting that. "You burned Pam's eyes out!" I screamed, realizing. Pam was one of my few friends of the same sex.

He flinched at my words, looking almost guilty. "I warned her not to spy on my true form... It can be... Overwhelming to most humans." He chose his words carefully, and didn't look at me until he finished speaking.

"I am... Sorry. About your friend."

Our eyes met and it was then that I started to believe him. Something shifted in me then. I don't know what, but I could feel optimism and hope seep back into my pores. I kept staring at his eyes, and he kept staring at mine. I swear I was staring into his soul-that is, if angels _had _a souls.

But I do know that Castiel wasn't lying. I don't think he was the type that would. I... felt like I could trust him.

At this realization, I looked down, suddenly shy, and pulled my loose hair behind my ear. I could feel him still looking at me. I was tense under his gaze, and looked everywhere but at him.

Castiel stepped closer-_real_ close, and I tilted my head up to meet my eyes, before showing me a sillhouette of-_wings_?!-protruding from his back.

My eyes widened in shock. "Do not doubt," was all he said before he said before vanishing with a faint whisper of a ruffling sound-_wings,_ my mind supplied for me. He really _was_ an angel.

And I was alone in an abandoned warehouse God knows where.

I sighed audibly.

* * *

I was about a block from the motel when I heard Dean yell.

"Where the hell have you been?!" He walked swiftly toward me as I did him.

"Around," I answered, mysteriously. I almost laughed at myself. Dean didn't think it was too amusing, though.

He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me in, until his face was inches from mine. "You think this is funny?" He asked rhetorically, still pissed. Then he changed. "We were worried about you. I... Was worried about you." He pulled me in for a hug, cradling my head to his chest. Dammit. He made me feel guilty for upsetting him when I wanted to stay pissed at him like a stubborn child.

But all I could manage to say was,"I'm sorry. I-I went for a walk, and ran into your angel buddy." Dean made me feel like a horrible person for going on a walk.

He pulled me back to look in my eyes to see if I was serious or not. "Son of a-" he cursed, then turned back to me. "Are you hurt?" He looked me up and down for injuries that weren't there.

"No, Dean, I'm fine-"

"If that bastard laid a finger on you, I swear-"

"Dean! I'm fine! Besides, I don't think an _angel_ would hurt me." I said, hinting that I believed in angels now. "I- Wait. _ANGEL_? You believe now, too?" I had enraged him. Great. Just great.

I sighed mentally, then looked him in the eye. Not like I usually did when we were joking or talking. I looked in his eyes, _really_ looked. "I seen his wings, Dean. He-" I cut myself off. I needed to know more about the symbol before telling Dean.

"Eleanor. Tell me if you know something."

I looked back up at him, pretending as if I was just coming out of my thoughts. "Huh?" I asked, blinking dumbfoundedly.

He frowned. "I think you have amnesia or a concussion or something. We should have Sam check ya out."

"Is that necessary? I just have an... Over-active brain. It works overtime." I claimed defiantly. I puffed out my chest and held my hands on my hip, nose in the air.

He just shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "Oh... What am I going to do with you?" It was a rhetorical question, I knew but I answered anyway.

"Hopefully give my a piggy-back ride back to the motel because I just walked for over four hours," I said trying to hop on Dean's back.

"Nuh-uh," he said, laughing, as he escaping my grasp.

"Yeah-huh," I retorted.

"I am not carrying you for a block."

"Oh, boo hoo. It's one block!"

Dean started walking away, as Sam came running down the sidewalk. I plopped down on the ground.

"Where were you?!" he exclaimed.

"With angel-boy. I'm fine, all except for my aching feet and legs...?" I said hopefully. "Carry me?" I held my arms out like a child.

Sam sighed. "Really?"

I nodded, innocently.

* * *

Dean stood, leaning against the Impala with his arms crossed. I stuck my tongue out at him. Sam had given my a piggy-back ride.

"You are such a baby."

"And yet you love me anyway!" I placed my hands over my heart in a sarcastic touched manner.

Sam set my down. "Thank you." I smiled gratefully at him, then glared at Dean. "See? He's nice."

"Are you saying that I'm not?" He asked. I thought back to him jerking me out of bed this morning.

"Yes." I smiled sweetly, batting my eyelashes. Dean slid into the driver's seat.

"I call shotgun!" I screamed, rather quickly.

Sam looked at me, flustered. "But I carried you!"

I shrugged. "Dibs is dibs."

"You're evil." He turned to Dean. "Why aren't we hunting evil _people_, too?" Dean shrugged.

I got in after Sam, getting shotgun (Yay!) And started to fiddle with the radio. Dean swatted my hand away. I opened my mouth, ready to argue, when Dean spoke.

"Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts her cakehole."

"One song? Please...?" I pouted.

"She's spoiled," Sam said.

"You're just now figuring this out?" Dean added.

"I'm right here!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms.

A few moments of silence later...

"So where are we going? Any leads?" Dean asked. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't give him the chance. I had some questions of my own that needed answers.

"To Montana."


	2. High on Happiness

_**Castiel's POV**_

I don't understand. The second I looked in the girl's eyes, they changed color. From brown to blue.

She was human, I knew that much. I sensed it. But there was something there, in that room. Something... _more_.

I stood about the abandoned warehouse I'd brought Eleanor to. I looked about the rummage, finding a chair, when something shined in my peripheral vision. Something metallic.

I turned my attention to it immediately. An earring, silver and glittering with the small amount of light the room possessed.

I squatted down and gently picked it up, not knowing its fragility. I let it dangle between my fingers, examining it. A simple hoop, was all it was. However, it was covered in small lines and carvings. Symbols. Septagrams, otherwise known as heptagrams, elven stars, and faerie stars littered the hoop.

This puzzled me. It wasn't a wellknown symbol amongst the humans, but it stood for many things. Protection, mystery, and the seven directions are only a few.

I slipped the small loop into my trench coat's inner pocket, knowing it'll be safer there, before going about my business once more. Finding that hex.

It has to be a greatly powerful curse to cause even a minor angel like myself to see and feel illusion. Eleanor's eyes couldn't have possibly changed colors, even if it were for only a split second.

And what I'd felt. What I had felt, felt like how one describes trust and bond. But that couldn't have been it. I am an angel, so I do not feel.

* * *

_**Eleanor's POV**_

"So why are we going to Montana, again?" Dean asked, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of Aerosmith's _Ragdoll._

"You'll see," I answered vaguely, as I had the last ten times he asked me. I wasn't trying to be rude or secretive, because I was still trying to figure out _why_ I wanted to go there, myself. I knew it had something to do with my mother, but Cas had already told me as much as I was gonna learn on my own. So there really wasn't a reason. Just instinct.

After a while, the radio station started to cut out, so I switched it. The station I'd changed it to played older rock, mixed with some more modern rock. Yay!

Once Three Days Grace's song had ended, and I, of course had sang along, Dean tried to switch the station. I swatted his hand away.

"Hey, I said be-"

"Shh!"

"Wanna win you some concert tickets? Listen in until you hear a Nickelback song to be the first to call it in. If you answer three questions right, you'll win two concert tickets to Nickelback's sold-out Dark Horse tour..." My mind blanked out the rest as my eyes widened. I only cared about three words there. _Win,_ and Dark_ Horse Tour._

Then I smiled. "We are _not _changing this station.

_An hour and seventeen minutes later..._

"It's ringing!" I practically squealed.

"And you are caller number-" _Oh, God, if you really do exist, please do this one favor for me. "_-one! Congratulations! You're just three questions away from getting tickets to the sold-out Dark Horse tour! Are you ready to start?"

"Yes." I crossed my fingers, and my legs.

"Question One: What Nickelback song was _just played?_"

That was easy! "_Gotta Be Somebody."_

"Question Two: Name one of the three bands in this tour with Nickelback and two of their songs.

"Hinder. _Lips of an Angel_ and _Without__ You._"

"Question Three: What band did Nickelback first go on tour with?"

My already larger-than-life smile grew. "Theory of a Deadman."

"CORRECT! YOU HAVE JUST WON YOUR TICKETS TO SEE NICKELBACK LIVE! NOW, I'll just need some information..."

I gave the man my info, and hung up. "I won. _WON_!" I giggled, overjoyed.

"We kind of figured that," said Sam. "Who's your plus one?"

My giggling died down to just a giddy grin. "I don't know. Do either of you want-"

"I'll go!" Dean volunteered. I was taken aback.

_"Really?"_ My eyes were wide with shock, though a smile was still plastered to my face.

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. "Why not? 'Might as well see why your obsessed with those bands."

"ThankyouthankyouthankyouTHANKYOU so much, Dean! I swear, the next time we stop, you're getting a hug!"

* * *

The next time we stopped was to pick up our tickets at the radio broadcast place that I can't remember what it's called-studio? I did give Dean a big hug, and almost made him fall over (hehe).

We are now in Fargo, for the concert tonight. Sam had hotwired a car, and said he had some leads to follow up on. He's a couple towns over from here.

"I still can't believe it." I'm so fucking giddy right now, it's not even funny. But Dean thought it was.

He laughed at me. "You're acting like this is your first concert. _Ever._"

"No I'm not!" I protested like a child. "I'm just high on happiness. There's nothing wrong with it." I had to restrain from stomping my foot and crossing my arms.

"Okay, then you're acting like a kid."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, _please._ I do that all the time!"

He laughed again. "I can't argue with that."

I slapped his arm and glared at him in response.

"Ow!" The way Dean said it, it was more of that _ow _you say when you're more shocked than hurt.

I huffed, annoyed at my obvious lack of strength. I really didn't get it. I train. I practice. I fight. But I _still _don't have any strength! It's not fair!

How is Dean so in shape? He's all hot and smexy and eats whatever he wants (not that I don't).

"What're you staring at?" Dean asked incredulously. I blinked, coming back into focus, realizing I'd been staring at him. Probably with _every _word I'd just thought displayed accross my face. _WHY?! _I groaned mentally.

"Sorry. La La Land."

"Of course."

I smiled sarcastically. "Where else would I be?"

* * *

We got out of the Impala, my new favorite song stuck in my head. I sang its lyrics out loud as Dean said good night to his Baby. I stood, one foot on the first step.

"You coming?" He nodded, his attention now on my new Nickelback tee. It looked ripped around the neck, and had slits down the sleeves. It clung to me in _just_ the right way, showing _just_ a bit of cleavage. I loved it.

"That looks really good on you. Badass." He looked me up and down, his eyes travelling slowly.

"Yeah? I wriggled my eyebrows at him. "You'd look pretty _sexy_ in the one _I_ picked out for you, too."

"It's too bad I didn't get it, then." Dean smiled, his longer strides catching up to me within seconds.

"Yeah, because fifteen different women coming on to you ain't enough," I teased back, sarcastically.

I expected him to say something like, "Nope," or "Hey, you can _never _have too many women," but he didn't. Instead, he changed the subject. _Weird. _So weird, in fact, I almost turned around and said, "Who are you and what've you done with Dean?" But I didn't.

"Did you really have to sing _every song?_ I mean, everyone around us was staring at you like you were some crazy chick."

"Since when do you care what others think? And, yes. Yes, I did have to sing." We were clomping up the stairs to our room, sometime passed midnight. I punched his arm playfully.

"I care what others think about _you._"

I was startled by his response. Taken aback. I paused, midstep. _What? _Then I was enraged. So some people didn't like me. So what? How dare he!? "Oh, so I'm not good enough for you, now is that it? You son of a-"

I started to walk away, rather quickly, but Dean grabbed my wrist, pulling-more like _spinning-_me back toward him.

Before I knew it, I was pressed up against him, his lips on mine. At first, I did nothing. I stood perfectly still.

It wasn't until he started to pull away that I kissed him back. Just a small peck. Which turned into a _long _kiss that deepened with every millisecond. I moaned when he cupped my ass, lifting me up. My legs wound their way around his waist.

Our bodies clashed closer together, our heat welding us in place. I couldn't have stopped even if I tried.

I felt him walking toward our room. His hands finding their way under my shirt as my fingers found themselves entangled in his hair.

His hands left my back to fiddle with the locked door, before they found their way to my ass. Then he slammed the door with his foot, neither of us caring about the noise.

Dean's lips left mine, his eyes staring deep into my soul. Looking for rejection, maybe? Love? Lust? He seemed to find what he was looking for, though, because his lips found mine once more.


End file.
